Oblivious to the Obvious
by analretentive
Summary: Joren of Stone Mountain died six years ago in the Chamber of Ordeal. Kel had thought he was going to stay that way. Apparently the gods have other ideas...


**Ch 1: So Mote It Be**

11 May 464 HE

Kel didn't know what woke her. Perhaps it was Jump's cold nose in her ear, or the sparrows twittering _very _early morning greetings to one another along her back. She groaned groggily and tried to get back to sleep. No such luck.

"For Mithros' sake, it's not even _near_ dawn," the lady knight mumbled into her pillow.

"Maybe you'd best be gettin' some more sleep then, m'lady," Tobe said, miraculously sounding wide awake when Kel could've _sworn_ he'd been snoring just moments before. But then, his pallet was just inside the doorway to the antechamber and he'd always been a light sleeper.

"I won't be able to get back to sleep now, Tobe. I think I'll go for a walk to wake myself up," Kel replied. She gently shook the corner of the blanket to warn the sparrows that she was getting out. They took to the wing and settled on the windowsill, eyeing her with beady black eyes. "Go back to sleep. There's no reason for you to be up before dawn."

"Suit yourself," the fourteen-year-old boy said indifferently. After several moments he added, "If you're not back by dawn, I'm sendin' Sir Neal after you."

Kel smiled into the darkness as she dressed. She knew he'd never make good on his threat to make Nealan of Queenscove find her, but it was nice to have some one who was concerned. She'd miss him when he left her service. His indentureship expired within the next week, so Kel'd have to speak to him about what he'd like to do with his life.

She adjusted her sword sheath, whistled softly to Jump and left her quarters. She could already see that it was going to be a fair-weather day, the first they'd had since November. It'd be a pity to waste such a fine day on a walk indoors. Besides, Jump had been restless to get outside of Palace grounds since Midwinter. For that matter, so had the horses. Perhaps she'd go for a ride.

Peachblossom was looking angry at the disturbance so early in the day, so she decided to take Hoshi, her more even-tempered mare. She saddled the chestnut and led her out to the palace gates, wincing at every _clink_ of metal horseshoe on stone paving. In the utter silence, Kel was sure even her breathing was loud enough to wake the dead. When she asked to be let out into the city, the sleepy gate warden gave her a look so reminiscent of Peachblossom's that she gave him a copper bit for his troubles. He brightened considerably after that and let them through without complaint.

Once in the city, Kel mounted and wondered where to go. From the palace gates there were three roads: Processional Way, which led south and became Temple Way; West Road; and East Road, which led into the Royal forest. Kel turned Hoshi onto the East Road and let the mare trot out her spring friskiness. The winter had been late and hard, and all the horses had been cooped up for months so, even though the crisp morning had woken the young knight sufficiently before they ever reached the Royal Forest, she kept riding to exercise her horse for a bit.

Suddenly Jump voiced a loud warning bark from amongst the undergrowth up ahead where he had been following a rabbit's trail. Kel instantly decreased Hoshi's pace from a lively canter to a cautious trot. Jump didn't usually make much noise apart from a hostile growl on occasion or his soft _whuf_ of agreement. There must be something wrong. She heard the Olorun River before she saw it, full with spring melt. Her scarred and battered dog was carefully nosing something by the bank of the river. A dead animal? No, Jump wouldn't bother her over something as trivial as that. What then? She dismounted to find out.

It was a man. A man about her age curled up in the fetal position, presumably for warmth. Kel was glad he was like that, because he was stark naked. She wondered if someone had murdered him and dumped the body in the Olorun, but there was no blood or wound and he had a pulse when she checked. She looked him over. He was relatively tall, an inch or two taller than her, with a lean and muscular build. Kneeling, she gently lolled his head back to see if she recognized his face.

She _did _recognize him. His palely handsome face was as familiar to her as Neal's, but this was a face she'd rather forget. It took all her five years of training at the Yamani court for her to stop herself from screaming, or running away from the Olorun as quickly as possible. Instead she looked over his face to try and prove it wasn't him because, after all, it was crazy to believe that it could be him. It was impossible… he was supposed to be dead… it couldn't be him… but it was…

"Joren."

Ten minutes later she galloped into the Palace stables. This time it had taken a gold noble to convince the gate warden to let her through with what looked suspiciously like a dead body.

"What's in ye, lady, gallopin' in here all hours o' the night, disturbin' folk's sleep?" Stefan, the head hostler, demanded from the stable doors.

She whirled around. She was still in shock and acting very un-Kel-like. "It's an emergency, Stefan. Could- could you keep an eye on him while I get… some one?" Kel asked. Her voice was strained from trying to keep it from shaking. She couldn't afford to break down now.

"Keep an eye on who?" Stefan asked, walking over to Hoshi's stall. He stopped, blue eyes wide, when he saw the young mad draped in Kel's cloak over Hoshi's back. "Innit that the squire who was killed in the Chamber, six years back?" he said very quietly.

"I think so. I need to tell some one, the King will need to know bout this," she replied, feeling more like herself by the second.

"Aye. That he will. I'll watch o'er the lad, an' get one of the boys t' look after your mare. You go an' let some one know who'll tell their Majesties. M'lord o' Goldenlake, perhaps," Stefan suggested. Kel silently blessed Mithros for Stefan's cool head.

"Thank you, Stefan. I'll come back as quickly as possible," she said, already leaving the stables.

She was outside of Raoul's quarters before she knew it. As she raised her hand to knock on the door, the bell tolled six times to mark the hour. It would be dawn soon and Tobe would worry, but it couldn't be helped. Then she got as idea, and signaled for Jump to go to Tobe. The servant boy knew she had taken Jump, and if he was there unworried and unalarmed, Tobe would know his mistress was alright but couldn't return to her quarters because of other duties.

"Mithros strike you down, you worthless piece of swamp scum. Don't you know the time?" a big bear of a man grumbled as he opened the door. Raoul rubbed his eyes and looked down. "Oh, it's you, Kel. Come in."

If she weren't so preoccupied Kel would have found her former knight-master's reaction extremely funny. She sat in a chair as Buriram, Raoul's wife, came in.

"Who is it, Raoul?" she asked, slightly irritated. Then she saw Kel and her tone changed. "What is it, Keladry? I know you wouldn't disturb us at this hour unless it were important."

"My thoughts exactly. What's so important that it couldn't have waited until sun-up?" Raoul asked.

Kel took a deep breath and plunged right in. When she had finished explaining her story, both Raoul and Buri seemed to be speechless. Raoul found his voice first. "So you came to me because I have the authority to personally inform the King?"

Kel nodded, grateful beyond words that he had accepted her story without question. "Sir, how could this have happened? People who've been dead for six years don't suddenly jump out of their graves and decide to come back to life. It must be a mage's work."

Raoul looked thoughtful. "I may regret saying this, but I don't think so. The fact is that there are only four mages in Tortall with that kind of power. The King and the Lioness would never even think of it, Numair's far too experienced to consider it, and Thom of Pirate's Swoop stayed behind to visit his sister for a while when the Tortallan delegation left the Copper Isles. I think we're looking at something different altogether, Kel," Raoul said slowly.

Kel contemplated this as the Knight Commander disappeared for a couple of minutes to get dressed. If what he had said was correct, Kel imagined that things would only get more complicated.

Raoul reappeared and tenderly kissed his wife on the head. Just as he was about to leave, there was a cry of, "Da!" and a dark little figure raced across the room and latched onto the large man's legs. Raoul laughed and picked up the three-year-old girl attached to him.

"Where are you going, Da?" the girl asked.

"I need to go and talk to the King, but I'll be back soon, darling."

"How soon?" she insisted.

"I'm not sure, Jocelyn, but soon," Raoul laughed. He put his daughter back on the ground, said goodbye again and left.

Jocelyn clambered onto her mother's lap, hugged the K'miri around the neck and gave her cheek a kiss. "Good morning, Ma. Why is Kel here?" Jocelyn fixed her huge brown eyes on the lady knight.

She was the most inquisitive, serious child Kel had ever seen. It was hard to tell which parent she took after, because she had the black hair and brown eyes Buri and Raoul shared. She had creamy brown skin, lighter than Buri's colour. Jocelyn's original godsparents had been the Lioness, the Queen, the baron of Pirate's Swoop and the King, but Raoul had insisted on adding Kel and Domitan of Masbolle to the extended family. Kel felt her eyes prickling at the thought of Dom. She blinked hard and paid more attention to the conversation between mother and daughter.

"Kel came to give your father some important news," Buri told her curious daughter.

Jocelyn seemed to accept this explanation, for she slid off Buri's lap and stared solemnly at Kel. "Good morning, Lady Knight," she said, bobbing a curtsey in her nightgown.

"Good morning, milady Jocelyn," Kel replied, straight-faced, and bowed in her chair. Jocelyn burst into giggles and hugged the lady knight. Kel hugged her back and then said, "I'll have to be going, before Tobe sends out a search party for me. Sorry for the early morning intrusion."

"Don't worry about it, it was important," Buri said. "Good luck, Kel. I have a feeling we're all going to need it."

Kel left the small family's rooms, wondering just how right Buri was. In her mind, Joren would be the one requiring luck. She didn't know the King very well, and she wasn't altogether sure what his reaction would be, especially given the events of his coronation, twenty-five years earlier.

A soft _whuf_ interrupted Kel's thoughts. "You're supposed to be with Tobe," she told Jump, a scowl on her face.

"Well, m'lady, he _is _with me. He was just showin' me where you were, because Lord Raoul was wishful o' me tellin' you that His Majesty is holding a small assembly in the small chamber off the Throne Room, and he would like your presence," a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed teenage boy replied for the dog as he came into sight around a corner.

Kel raised an eyebrow. "You're being pert."

Tobe ducked his head meekly and said, "M'lady."

"Come on, show me to the King's assembly and I'll tell you what all the fuss is about," Kel said, smiling.

When she had finished explaining, Tobe looked as solemn as he did when she first met him. He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "It sounds an awful lot like some one's been mixin' around with magic they oughtn't."

"That's what I thought, Tobe, but my lord told me that he was sure the only mages powerful enough to do this are either out of the country, or wise enough to not try such a venture," Kel replied.

"Whatever it is, I don't think it was meant to be a blessin', what with my lady's ill will for the lord," Tobe mused as they entered the Throne Room, with its beautiful arched columns.

"I think you're right, Tobe," she said gravely. She sent Jump away with Tobe and crossed the silent, empty Throne Room and opened a cleverly hidden door that she never would have noticed if she hadn't known it was there.

Kel looked for the King and Queen and bowed deeply when she noticed them standing on the opposite wall, looking grim and somewhat frazzled. Then she retreated to the nearest corner where she could look around the room unobserved. She realized instantly that she shouldn't be here; the occupants of the room were all part of the monarchs' inner circle. The Lioness and her husband stood quietly near Jonathan and Thayet; Raoul was conversing with Duke Gareth the Younger of Naxen in the opposite corner to hers; Daine the Wildmage and Numair Salmalin stood leaning against the wall, each holding one of their children and with a small blue dragon between them, and talking to Duke Baird of Queenscove; Shinkokami made a small Yamani bow of welcome to Kel when she entered, which Kel returned, and her husband, Crown prince Roald, inspected the person in the middle of the room with blatant shock. Joren of Stone Mountain slumped in a stiff-backed wooden chair, unconscious and unaware of the people around him. Some one had put him in a jacket and breeches, and he wasn't looking quite as blue as he had when she found him, probably thanks to Duke Baird. Lastly Kel noticed Lord Wyldon, standing alone by the door. Kel had to suppress a smile, knowing the reason why he was by himself: he was the only (conscious) conservative in the room. Just then Sir Myles entered. The absent-minded old knight was wearing a blue dressing gown over a purple tunic and tan breeches that clashed terribly, and looked as though he could have done with several more hours of sleep.

The King took a slight step forward and the murmurs in the room stopped instantaneously. Kel had always thought his control over audiences, large and small, to be astounding. It was just a mark of how much Tortallans respected and idolized their king. "Now that everyone is assembled, I think it may be time for explanations. There is no easy way to say it. As is evident, Joren of Stone Mountain, who died six years ago during his Ordeal of Knighthood, has somehow come back to life. I have assembled you all here to discuss what is to be done."

"What I want to know, sire, is how he has awoken from the dead. It must have been an extremely powerful mage to have pulled this off," Duke Baird said mildly.

"It wasn't done by magic. There's not a sign of anyone's Gift on him. Or if there is, it's a type I cannot detect," Numair said quietly, his brow furrowed in either concentration or frustration.

Roald, whose astounded gaze hadn't left Joren for an instant, spoke up, "He must have had to dig his way out of his own grave. Look at his hands."

Indeed, Joren's strong, slender hands were filthy with soil, grime and blood. Kel couldn't ever remember the arrogant man's hands being unclean like that- he had always felt himself far too superior to work like a common servant. She felt a pang of pity for the man she thought she'd never feel compassion for. What must it have been like for him to have woken up in his grave and have to dig himself out? To have seen his gravestone and wonder how long it had been since he'd died? An unpleasant shiver ran down her spine at the thought.

"The question really is: what are you going to do with him, sire?" the cold voice of Lord Wyldon asked. He truly looked and sounded like the Stump, which was the epithet that Neal had given Wyldon when he had been their training master. His voice was trained to monotony and his face was just as expressionless.

"You can't simply act as though nothing has happened, Jonathan. That's what your father did last time, but by the Goddess, you'd better not do the same thing," Alanna snapped, her eyes flashing angrily in Wyldon's direction. Nearly everyone in the room tensed. No one dared to speak to the King like that, except the Lioness.

"What else can we do, Alanna? He's still the same person he was before he died," Thayet said in a soothing voice.

"This isn't like last time. Joren isn't guilty of treason; there isn't any reason why he shouldn't regain his former titles and status," Jonathan put in.

Alanna glared at Jonathan. "He was dead, for Mithros' sake! Wouldn't you say that changes _something_!" she growled. Her husband put a comforting arm around her shoulders and she leant into him gratefully.

Daine narrowed her eyes. She had had a sneaking suspicion ever since Numair had announced that he couldn't sense a magical signature, and she was growing ever surer. And she knew just how to find out for certain. "Of course, the easiest way would be to just send him back to the grave," she said, as though she was simply thinking aloud.

The hush in the room grew tense. "You mean kill him?" Kel asked, alarmed. That wasn't at all like the Wildmage's normal way of thinking, if she knew Daine at all.

Daine shrugged. "What does it matter, really? It was probably just some particularly Gifted University student's foolish experiment, after all."

The King was about to reply, but the young dragon Kitten had sat up on her hindquarters for attention, and piped a few high-pitched trilling notes. All eyes were on the little immortal. Watching Daine, Kel saw a triumphant smile tugging on the corner of her lips. That was the last thing she saw before a soundless explosion of white light filled the room, temporarily blinding everyone in the room. When she had blinked away the little black dots invading her vision, Kel looked around the room. In the center, beside Joren's chair was a hunched-over old lady. She wore the sack-like tunic of Carthaki slaves, and worn out leather sandals. Her head seemed to have been shaved not too long ago, judging by the amount of stubble on it, and her left eye drooped until it was almost shut. She was an imposing, if somewhat unusual, figure.

Kitten instantly went into a fit of scolding whistles, which seemed to amuse the hag.

"None of that, now, youngster. You know it had to be done," she cackled.

"So it _was_ you who did this. I thought it must have been," Daine said. She seemed disapproving.

"Nice to see you again too, dearie," the stranger said sarcastically. Daine just scowled. "Of course it was me. The others can't do that." She gestured to Joren, who was still out cold.

The Wildmage sighed, hitched Sarralyn higher up on her hip and announced, "May I introduce the Graveyard Hag, who is apparently responsible for our little problem." Kel made a small bow while everyone else paid their respects in their own ways, varying from a simple nod (Wyldon) to a deep curtsey (Thayet).

"Enough," the Graveyard Hag said, her gravelly voice firm. "I think you can all guess why I'm here. I don't want my handiwork ruined. You're not to kill the boy."

"Why? I thought you gods chose _worthy_ vassals, not people… like him," Kel said before she could stop herself. She was surprised at her own daring; she didn't usually speak so frankly, and it was not wise to speak so rashly to a goddess.

The Graveyard Hag fixed her unsettling gaze on Kel and smiled crookedly. "He's useful in his own way, and he's needed for a task. A task that only he can complete. You shouldn't question why the gods do what they do, Keladry."

"So we're not to harm him. Is there anything else that the gods would have us know?" Baron George of Pirate's Swoop asked tactfully.

"Why would we have anything else for you to know? Now…" The Graveyard Hag snapped her fingers in front of Joren's face, and he instantly woke. It was a jolt for Kel to see those cold blue eyes for the first time in six years. This was the person who had made her pagehood hell, who had paid for her maid to be kidnapped in the hopes that she'd have to redo all four years of being a page, and who she had thought she was free of forever. So much for that…

"Where is it?" he asked slowly. Apparently he had known what was going to happen, because he fixed his intense blue eyes on the grizzly goddess in front of him.

"I'm getting it," she snapped. A frown creased her very wrinkled forehead and she muttered to herself, "Where _is_ that creature?" She paused for a moment; just enough time to make everybody in the wonder what she was talking about. "Ah, there."

Suddenly a small black cat appeared on Joren's lap, staring at everyone with wide purple eyes. Alanna, George, Jonathan, Thayet, Raoul, Gareth, Baird, Myles and Daine all stared in surprise and recognition at the cat. Kel was nonplussed. What was so important about a cat?

"Please do not tell me that is Faithful," Raoul said, sounding very shocked

"How many cats have you seen with purple eyes, Raoul?" the Lioness said.

"It is the creature that you think it is, even though Faithful is not his name. Most people call him The Cat and think he's simply a constellation. He's going to keep an eye on Joren here, and make sure he doesn't stray too far from his path," the Graveyard Hag informed them. "Now, if you all don't mind…" She left then, in another blaze of light.

The black cat, Faithful, leaped off Joren's knee and slinked over to the Lioness. He rubbed against her legs, purring loudly. Alanna bent down and picked him up, bringing him up to eye level. Now Kel could see that they both had the same amethyst eyes.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she murmured. Faithful mewed and reached out to bite her small nose. Joren glowered and made a small noise of dissent, as though he resented Alanna touching anything that he thought to belong to _him_. Yes, that's the Joren I know, Kel thought without a shred of fondness.

"Well, Joren of Stone Mountain, it seems you now have the gods' favour. We must do as they bid us to and hope it turns out for the best," Jonathan announced formally.

"Mithros witness that," Sir Myles said.

Everybody in the room, including Kel and Joren, murmured in reply, "So mote it be."


End file.
